Pinkathon Bengaluru 2016 Diary #iamafinisher

I started my year with the resolution to run instead of walking. Pinkathon Bengaluru 2016 was my first chance to do that and here’s how it happened on 31st January.

That day was a crazy day. Nope, it was not just “crazy.” It was crazier than crazy. It was the craziest that a day could be.

We woke up at 4 a.m. and by 4.45, we were ready to attend our very first Pinkathon. We reached the venue around 5.20 a.m. What awaited us was a clogged road and loud thumping music. I smiled and thought, “What have I got myself into?”

We found parking and entered to a wide arena with women everywhere. Now just try imagine it – it was 5.30 a.m., it was dark, early morning chill was strong in the air and here I was shaking my booty to foot-tapping Zumba with hundreds of other women.

As if all the women decide to come together and have a grand celebration just for themselves.

Yeah, celebration, that’s the word for it. Everybody was laughing, singing, dancing, talking loudly, taking selfies and every insane thing we do at a party.

We were supposed to run the 3K circuit. We, Little B and I. We had been practicing and we were confident about the 3K. We thought we would run some and then walk some and then run some more and then walk some more and that is how we both would manage together.

It was already around 7.30 a.m., and our turn hadn’t come yet. There was a lot of waiting involved. However, the waiting was fun as well, because I caught up with Freya and we did a lot of random activities that were planned at the event.

Eventually, we started running.

There were women running all around us. Girls as little as Little B to women in their 70s! Women with infants in strollers, women with infants in baby carriers. Wearing hot pants, wearing yoga pants, wearing track pants and wearing salwar. And I was like, “Oh this is what Pinkathon is all about!”

Little B gave all that she had and kept saying, “I’ll finish it with you Ma.” However, mid race, she started to fizzle out a little. She woke up with me at 4, so she was feeling a little sleepy, a little tired. She ran to be in her Pa’s arms.

With Little B not racing anymore, Freya and I were all in for the 5K. We jogged and ran and brisk walked and finally made it to the finishing line.

I couldn’t believe it! Never have I ever participated in a race in my life. Not even in school. There was a period where I even believed that I didn’t even have the muscles needed to run developed in my body. And yet, in that moment, I was a runner. I was a finisher. I could do it, it was possible.

In that moment of excitement, we cheered for each other and collected our medals. There was another round of selfies. I even forgot to do my post-run stretches which are an absolute essential for me, otherwise my muscles sore badly. There was no time to cool down from the adrenaline that was running through my body. There was no time to come down from the high I was drifting in.

When I finally sat in the car to come back home, I started realizing the pain in various parts of my body. Knee felt frozen, calves were tight and that lower back, I was sure it would pain me for at least a week to come.

And then I remembered reading it somewhere –

“Pain is temporary, Pride is forever.”

I was not taking along with me aching joints, I was taking along with me Pride.

This race was my first. I would not forget it. Not in this lifetime at least.

P.S. Little B, my 5-year-old daughter, made this race possible for me. I try to be the best that I can be, so that she can look up to me and think that she has got an awesome mother.

I can’t thank Mr B enough. He can back home after a hectic travel schedule at 4.30 a.m., and by 4.45 a.m. he was out with me. All the time that I was enjoying myself at Pinkathon, he was patiently standing behind the fenced area, supporting me. Mr B, you are a wonderful friend and I feel grateful to have you in my life.

P.P.S. I wanted to get a picture taken with Milind Soman. What is a Pinkathon without a pic with Milind Soman, right? Couldn’t manage it. But I did touch his bicep! Does that count?

Interested in reading more of Pinkathon diaries? Head over to Freya’s Another First – My First 5K at the Pinkathon.